Fighting On
by Liz Jade Skywalker
Summary: Anakin Skywalker has survived the Battle of Endor. So has Palpatine. Now, master and apprentice are become bitter foes.
1. Default Chapter

"Your feelings for them are strong," Vader taunted, reaching deep into his son's mind for ammunition

"Your feelings for them are strong," Vader taunted, reaching deep into his son's mind for ammunition. He found something very interesting… "Especially for… sister! So, you have a twin sister. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now, his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps she will."

That was the breaking point. Luke rushed forward, his blade igniting, and he attacked his father in fury. Vader fell back before the onslaught. Somehow, he could barely defend himself. His son was an amazing fighter! 

They were in front of the stairs to the throne, now, and Vader could feel himself weakening. How? He clung to the railing, the only thing keeping him off the floor. Luke was hacking like a madman. Where was this weakness coming from? His son wasn't the cause. Finally, weakened beyond the breaking point, he stopped defending. _If it is Luke's destiny to kill me now, so be it._ he thought. But before he died, he wanted to know what had made him so weak.

It wasn't the suit. He could tell that with a light Force probe. Broken machinery screamed out to him through the Force. 

His eyes strayed beyond his son, standing now to challenge Palpatine. Vader eyed his master. There was a gleam in those eyes that wasn't directed at Luke. _Palpatine!_

Palpatine was weakening him. Vader knew it with a certainty. Palpatine would rather have had Luke as a servant, so he would discard Vader—weak, old, crippled Vader—for Vader's strong young son. 

He couldn't hear what Palpatine was saying to Luke, or what Luke's reply was. All he heard was the thudding of blood in his ears. He struggled to his feet, stood looking between Palpatine, who was his master, and Luke, who was his son. 

Then lightning bolts shot out of Palpatine's fingers, and Luke flew backwards, onto the floor, and cried out. Vader's eyes under the mask widened. _My son!_

"Ah! Father, please! Father!"

Vader looked at his son, looked at him hard. A black glove on the boy's right hand…

And then it hit him. _Ah, Force, what have I _**done**_?! I've killed all whom I considered friends, I alienated my wife, I murdered the man who raised me, and I've mutilated my son! What kind of a monster have I become?_

With an astounding suddenness, he felt the Dark power he'd been holding vanish as he realized his shame. For a second he floundered. He'd been using that power to keep himself upright and alive against Palpatine's invisible attack. For an instant, he sank farther. Then, a new power flooded him. _Light! _

He gathered strength to pull himself upright, slowly but surely. Palpatine's blanket of weakness still covered him. Vader—no, _Anakin Skywalker_ stood for several more moments, gathering strength, trying to find a way he could kill the emperor before himself succumbing. He didn't see any way could survive. 

Then he remembered a variant on the Absorb trick. This variant absorbed Force powers instead of physical weapons. He reached out with the Force, set himself up for the power, and grabbed Palpatine.

Lighting washed into him, and there was a moment of tearing pain before the Absorb went to work. Now, the lightning bolts still flooded into his body, but instead of doing more damage, the Force they contained was twisted back into Anakin's use, and they made him stronger instead of weaker. He flung Palpatine into the reactor pit, and turned away, denying his former master's death the dignity of a viewer. 

Anakin turned and rushed to his son. "Luke!"

"Father…" Luke's voice was weak. He was dying. Anakin knelt by his son. 

"Luke, you must heal. That's the only way you'll survive."

"I… can't heal myself. Too weak." 

"Then I'll heal you," the elder Skywalker declared.

Luke gathered all the Force strength he could—so little! —and probed his father's mind. _Are you…?_

Yes, Luke, I'm Light.

Luke settled back and felt his father's strength pour into him, healing and correcting. "We have to get out of here," Anakin said. "The station will be destroyed very soon now."

He helped Luke up, and they left the throne room, headed for the hangar bay.

What neither of them noticed was the figure hanging by a tiny protrusion halfway down the shaft to the reactor core…

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The _Lambda_-class shuttle set down in a small clearing on the Sanctuary Moon. Anakin bent quietly over his son, who was asleep. The stump of his right hand hidden self-consciously behind his cloak though there was no one to see, Anakin used his left hand to brush strands of sand-brown hair out of his son's face. Regret washed through him: he had never gotten to see his son grow up. _My fault. I turned away from the Light. So what I said on the Death Star was true. Obi-Wan was wise. He hid my child—my children _(remembering the revelation in Luke's mind)_—from me, lest they become me._

Luke stirred softly. "Father?" he murmured.

"Yes, Luke?"

"Where are we?"

"We're on Endor. I'm going to take you back to your friends."

Luke frowned. "But they'll kill you."

"Luke, you need medical attention. I've healed you some, but not enough, and trust me, you do not want to know the aftereffects of lightning."

"But…" 

"No buts. If you don't get medical attention, you'll most likely die." He tried to hide the fear of that inevitability from his voice. "You _must_ have medical attention, my son."

"But they'll kill you."

"Will they be wrong?"

"Yes." Idealism and conviction in Luke's voice made Anakin smile, invisible under the helmet he still needed in order to survive.

They left. Anakin didn't want to wait any longer than he absolutely had to: Palpatine had once given him a jolt of lightning, then allowed some of the aftereffects to begin before ordering him treated, and Anakin didn't want to put his son through that torture.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew," Han said to Leia.

She smiled. "No, he wasn't." She could sense it, dimly—her brother's presence. And that dark sense, that dim air of dark she'd realized was Vader, that was gone too. Vader was dead.

The sounds of celebration were all around them, and Leia realized with joy that the war was finally over. Vader was dead, she could sense that, and Palpatine was dead, too, because he'd been on the station and the station was gone.

The sound of a shuttle landing broke the reverie. Alliance officers and troopers crowded around it; it wasn't one of theirs, that much they could tell. They expected disoriented Imperial refugees.

What no one expected was for Darth Vader to step off the ramp.

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Luke was conscious when they arrived in the Alliance camp, but that was it. The aftereffects had begun to set in, and it was painfully clear—literally—that even standing up, let alone any sort of mobility, was far beyond his current capacity. 

Thus, when Anakin stepped off the shuttle ramp into the sights of two dozen blasters, he was half-supporting, half-carrying Luke.

This was a bit of a surprise for the soldiers who crowded around them, to say the least.

Someone must have contacted Mon Mothma, because she, Admiral Ackbar, and General Madine came running. They skidded to a halt just outside the ring of armed soldiers, and stared. Leia and Han, who had heard the commotion, were right behind them. Leia gasped, seeing the black-masked figure. _He's supposed to be dead!_

Several troopers edged cautiously forward as it became clear that the dark-cloaked figure's intentions were not violent. He raised his left arm, palm spread to show no weapons, and his right arm was supporting Luke. 

The tableau held for several seconds, during the course of which Leia realized that Vader couldn't be holding a weapon in his right hand, because he had no right hand. The arm that supported Luke was just… an arm. No hand.

Vader spoke to one of the troopers. "Skywalker is in need of immediate medical attention." Just that, a simple statement.

None of them wanted to approach. "I will not hurt you," Vader said, and Leia frowned. Somehow, her instincts told her that Vader… was not Vader. That echo of darkness she'd associated with him was not there. Was it possible…?

No. A memory surged within her. Alderaan, seconds before its destruction. No, Vader was Vader, and gravity would stop working before that changed.

But Luke was injured. She moved forward cautiously, and took Luke, her newfound brother, into her arms gently. She moved back to the security of the ring of guards, and spoke quiet orders to one. He thumbed his comlink and called for a med team.

Luke turned towards her. "Leia," he whispered weakly. "Leia, don't… don't let them kill him. He's… he's good."

"Luke, shush. The medical team will be here soon. You'll be okay."

"Leia! Get… Mon Mothma. Need… to talk to… her. 

Leia sighed, and motioned to Han. "Get Mon Mothma," she said softly. "Luke wants to talk to her, and I don't want to move him any more than necessary."

Han nodded, and Leia watched him move around the circle until he got to Mothma. He tapped her shoulder softly, and whispered to her. She followed him back, and said, "Commander Skywalker?"

"Mon Mothma," Luke's voice was getting weaker and weaker, "don't… don't kill Vader. He's… changed."

Mon Mothma frowned at Luke. "I don't know if I can…"

He surged forward, out of Leia's arms. "Don't kill him!" He grasped Mothma's shoulder. "Please."

She nodded. "Alright. Calm yourself, Commander. Vader will not be harmed, at least for the time being."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Luke had been rushed to a medical center, and Anakin to a detention facility. He sat on the hard bench/bed, completely lost in thought.

__

I am a monster.

Where did I go wrong? What happened? I was a hero of the Clone Wars, I had a beautiful wife, and a lot of friends. Where did I go wrong? When did the darkness creep in?

Was it when my mother died? When I went to Tatooine and found her lying in an alley, bleeding and injured? When the doctor at the medicenter told me she wouldn't survive? Oh gods…

How did it happen? Somehow, it seemed proper that the Jedi pay for my pains. Why? 

What have I done? What made me do it? They were the people who took me in, who were my heroes and teachers and friends. How did they become my enemies? It wasn't something they did, it was a change in me. When did I change?

Was it when Naboo was devastated in the Clone Wars? Was it when I fell in the pit… no, it couldn't have been then, I had already made my choice when I challenged Obi-Wan. Was it when I stood in front of the Jedi Council as a nine-year-old, terrified that they'd send me back to Tatooine and a life of slavery? They claimed they could see into my soul; they claimed they saw fear and Darkness there. Was I born with the seed of evil in my heart?

No. Claiming I was born that way is blaming Fate, and Fate was not the criminal here. It is my responsibility, and mine alone. It was a decision I made, consciously or unconsciously.

Who am I, even? I spent years telling myself Anakin Skywalker was dead, now I'm trying to believe Vader's dead. Who is left alive within me? Am I an amalgam, an Anakin-Vader, to be neither wholly Light nor wholly Dark for the rest of my life?

Who am I?

He meditated for a long time on this question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, there was a hiss of his cell door opening. Startled out of his trancelike mediation, Anakin looked up.

Luke stood outside the door, arguing with an Alliance trooper as to whether or not this prison visit required the constant presence of a guard.

Anakin grimaced invisibly. These guards all seemed to think he needed a constant blaster in the side of his head. Then again, they saw only Darth Vader, the Emperor's minion. He wondered idly what would happen if he goaded a trooper into shooting him, then just Absorbed the bolt. But after a second he dismissed that as idle foolery.

Luke apparently won the argument, because he stepped into the cell alone. Cautiously, he waited for the door to finish closing before he spoke. "Father?"

"Luke. What are you doing here? You should still be in the medicenter."

"I'm fine. I… I wanted to talk to you."

Anakin sagged forward slightly. This, he knew, was going to be difficult for him. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"I don't know. I guess… I guess I just wanted to talk to you."

Anakin was silent for several seconds, then said softly, "Thank you."

Luke looked up at him, his brow furrowing in the very slightest of frowns, but he said nothing.

The silence stretched out for a few more moments, then Luke asked, "How did you learn that trick, with absorbing the lightning?"

Anakin frowned. "It's a variant on a power called Absorb, namely, the ability to absorb energy. Which, among other things, means blaster bolts, if you get good enough. It's a fairly rare power, even rarer to find it in any great potency. It's not one of my stronger abilities, but it's enough to hold off a few blaster bolts. Getting it to absorb Force weapons is simply a matter of training."

"It sounds very useful."

"It is." Anakin paused, and was silent for a moment. "You probably have the ability, too, Luke. Most Force abilities are hereditary."

"Is there any way to learn to use it?"

"Other than the hard way?" Anakin asked wryly. "Yes. They aren't easy, and require some special equipment, but there are ways to train the ability. The hard way is simply by getting shot and absorbing some or all of the bolt."

"Sounds painful."

"Oh, believe me, it is."

There was a silence, as the awkwardness between father and son made itself felt once more. "Is there some way…" Luke started to ask, then trailed off, searching for a tactful way to phrase what was on his mind. "How badly do you need…all that you're wearing?" He waved his hand at the life support equipment.

"I'll die without it." Anakin pointed out.

"No, I understand that. I mean… is it possible for you to heal?"

His father considered, head tilted to one side. "It's possible, but I don't think I can do it alone. Were you to help me, I think it would be a distinct possibility."

Luke's eyes lit up. "That would… that would also help your case with the Alliance. I know a lot of them are feeling uncomfortable because they can't read you, they can't see your face and know that you've changed."

A nod. "A mask works two ways."

"What would we need to get you healed?"

"I think time, effort, and an atmosphere room would do it. If you're strong enough, if I'm strong enough, and if we work together well enough."

"I'll talk to Medical about getting you an atmosphere room. I've got a bit more pull than most commanders."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tentatively, the atmosphere room was approved, and Anakin and Luke started working immediately. A pure oxygen atmosphere made it possible for Luke to see his father's face for the first time.

Anakin had expected Luke to draw back in horror. He had expected Luke to look on the scars, the bald, pale sluglike countenance of an old man and wince. He had thought maybe, if his son had enough kindness in his heart, the expression would be one of pity instead of horror.

He had nearly asked that they stop, that he remain in the mask. He didn't want to see the horror he knew would be in his son's eyes.

He didn't see the horror. He didn't see pity. As the mask came off, as the layers of plastic and metal that protected him from the outside world fell away, he saw a look of…

No. That couldn't be right. He couldn't be seeing what he thought he saw in Luke's face. That calm, caring look. It couldn't be. 

But it was. Luke didn't care about scars, didn't care about pasty-white skin, and didn't care about a hairless head marred by twisted skin. Luke saw past the horror, saw past the scars and outward hideousness, saw beyond all those to the man behind the face, to the man who defied the Galactic Emperor to save his son.

"I've tried to heal myself several times," Anakin said softly. His voice was raspy, harsh, his vocal cords mangled almost to the point of uselessness. Luke strained his hearing, wondering what his father's voice had sounded like before turning. "I've never been able to, alone," Anakin continued. "There's just too much, too much that needs to be repaired."

Luke leaned forward and laid a hand on his father's arm. "Together, we can do it. I know we can," he said firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Commander-Jedi Skywalker, could you perhaps fill us in on how Vader came to arrive with you from the Death Star?" Mon Mothma asked calmly. Around the room there were mutters from the other High Command members. 

"He is no longer Vader," Luke said.


	2. The First Assassin

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Chapter Two:

Emperor Palpatine sat in his throne on Imperial Center, fuming. The loss of a _second_ Death Star was a sore blow not only to the Empire's military strength but also to morale. The loss of Darth Vader would be a huge blow as well, but no one was going to know the particulars of that event. Vader…the traitor. No, that information would rest entirely with Palpatine…and some of it with the assassin who would kill Vader for his betrayal.

A nervous mind entering the throne room interrupted Palpatine's thoughts. The man who entered was small, whipcord-thin, with narrow eyes in a narrow, ratlike face. 

"Ah, Fenir Semlik, is it not?" Palpatine greeted him. 

"That is my name, m'Lord Emperor."

"You are, if I am not mistaken, the most talented member of the School of Assassins. You graduated from the training program with honors, and you have over two dozen successful assassinations to your credit, with no detections and no failures. Is my information correct?"

"Yes, m'Lord Emperor. I am considered the best available assassin."

"That is good, because I have a most challenging mark for you. This is of great importance to the Empire. No one must know about this job. You will proceed straight—straight, mind!—to the location of this target. You will engage in no unnecessary communication, and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. If anyone discovers whom you have been sent to kill, even after he is dead, you and your family will suffer. If you are successful, you will never have to worry about money again, such will be my reward."

"I understand fully, m'Lord Emperor. I will not allow anyone, not even my superiors at the School of Assassins, to discover the identity of the mark."

"Good. You are to be sent to kill Darth Vader."

Blood drained from the man's face. "K-k-kill the Dark Lord?" he stammered. "But…but that is said to be impossible! His powers—"

"—Are why I have contacted you! You are said to be the best, Selik! Are you worth the extravagant fee I am paying you, or should I seek my assassin elsewhere?"

"No, m'Lord Emperor. I will fulfill the contract. I was simply…taken aback by the identity of the mark."

"Well, do not be taken aback when you go to kill him. His death need not be fast, mind, but he must die."

"Understood."

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Luke and Anakin met with Mon Mothma in an atmosphere room to discuss Alliance High Command's decision regarding the former Sith. Anakin had offered to aid the Alliance cause, with his knowledge not only of troop locations, which were subject to change, but personal knowledge of the high commanders in the Empire, and the existence of the hardwired codes that had been set up for him as Palpatine's lieutenant. High Command had stewed about this for a month, but had finally made a decision.

"Mr. Skywalker," Mon Mothma looked Anakin in the eye. She had requested this meeting take place in the atmosphere room because she had wanted to be able to see his face. Talking to him when he wore the mask made her deeply uncomfortable, and Anakin had confessed he preferred being without it. "Mr. Skywalker, Alliance High Command has reached a decision regarding your future. Your son," she nodded towards Luke, "has argued very fluently and very strongly that you have indeed abandoned Imperial values, and that you have rejected the teachings of the Sith Order. Many members of High Command remain unconvinced of your change of heart…" she trailed off, watching the faces of the two. Luke looked nervous, fearing that her next words would be a sentence of death; Anakin looked calm, as though the outcome meant little to him. She took a deep breath and continued, "but the majority either are convinced you should be treated as another defector, or believe what you have offered us by way of access to Imperial data outweighs what you have done in the past. You will be offered an informal position in the Alliance as an advisor…with a few conditions. First, you will never go by the name of Vader again. Second, any officer at any time has the power to place you under armed guard or house arrest. Third, you will obey any orders given by any Alliance officer."

"I see no problems with any of High Command's conditions," Anakin said smoothly. 

Mon Mothma nodded to him. "One other thing, one which I do not consider a condition, per se, but more of a request. High Command is aware of the attempts you two are making to... ah… repair the injuries that make this atmosphere room a necessity. We would request that you not take any position until you have no longer any need to wear the mask," she waved a hand towards where the removed mask sat in a corner, "as it is a symbol for many people of the Empire. The medical staff here are to give you whatever assistance you require."

Anakin took a deep breath. "Medics will not be able to help with my respiratory damage. That avenue was investigated and found useless years ago. However, there are other… matters in which their assistance would be invaluable." He smiled at Mon Mothma. "Please convey my gratitude to High Command, and tell them that I look forward to being able to aid the battle against the Empire."

Luke had been silent through this conversation, simply listening, and thanking the Force and any existing deities that had granted his father life. But as Anakin thanked Mon Mothma, Luke started to feel a vague unease in the back of his mind. The feeling became stronger and stronger…

And blaster fire raked out across the room. 

Anakin's reflexes made him sweep an arm across his son's chest, knocking Luke to the floor before the fiery bolts could strike the young Jedi. Mothma gasped as bolts struck Anakin, two in his arm and one on his face. Struck… and were absorbed neatly into his skin, leaving faint red marks to show they had existed. 

Anakin flung one arm out, and Mon Mothma's eyes widened as a blaster came flying seemingly out of the wall. "A hologram," Luke gasped.

Anakin moved forward, as more bolts, of a noticeably different caliber, came from the hologram. He Absorbed them all, and reached in behind the hologram, dragging out a whipcord-thin man with an odd, twisted symbol on his collar.

"A Master from the School of Assassins," Anakin said. The man's eyes were wide, terrified. He couldn't move a muscle, and his terror was evident even to Force-less Mon Mothma.

Anakin paused, holding the man, and glanced at her. "What shall we do with him?"

Mon Mothma said, "I'll call Security." She pulled a comlink out of her pocked, and spoke into it for a few seconds. "They're on their way," she said.

A few moments later, three armed Alliance Security officers entered the room, and took the assassin from Anakin's grip. "He's a Master Assassin," Anakin warned them. "Be careful."

One of them nodded to him, and they departed with their prisoner.

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End file.
